MARY (LEAVER USES <*6ANICALLý 6RoWN EDIBLE FLoWE S IN HER (AnR,N6 BUSINESS, rr'S ,MPoRTANT TriAT It-tE <:tARNISH 8e EDIßL.E 1Je(AUSE AT A foRMAL t?' ÑE pA Tý IN A 'ÄÑÞLELIT ooM yoU 'AN'. NE'ESSA 'LY S e- WHAT YoU' E 't :t <&E:T11N& oN ' WAÑNA YoU PLATe, Aí , ONe. f MET oPoL,TAN PoTPoURRI A't'P> TI-IE 81 APPL E 8LoSSOMS ALL oVER " \ ) CHARLES WARD USES FLoWERS IN SoME of 'S HAI PESI6NS, YoU'RE NoT ot-JL. 6STnN6 fLOW S -- YoU'f{c 6E\'r'N A N'CE SMELL. oo. .....--. '\::;" had reached its finale, and the sound of applause and an occasional "Bra- vo!" filtered through the wall against which Miller was leaning his head. "The audience is drilled into this play like an eight-inch screw," he said, and smiled. Miller talked a little more about writing for the theatre. He said that when he writes a play now he is aware that it may never be done here, and that if it is done here there are likely to be problems not only in attracting the audience he seeks but in finding the actors who can embody and dra- matize the moral questions his plays attempt to pose. "The theatrical education of the young actors is minimal," Miller re- marked. "They don't know the litera- ture. They don't know very much about anything you'd think was the culture of the theatre." So, in that cabin in western Con- necticut, whom is Miller writing for? "I guess it's still my father," he said, and seemed surprised by his answer. "He was illiterate. He'd ask what I was writing, and I'd tell him the story. I could see in his eyes whether it was go- ing to hit home. I can't remember a time when he was wrong. He was like the old Hollywood moguls. He wanted to be astonished, and when he was- Boy, the power that came out of him." Miller leaned back in his chair and stared off into space. Then he said, "The dead ones. I'm writing for the dead, I suppose. Or the audience that . " IS to come. \. ,\, '" , - \1 DOROTHY GALLIGAN, IN A SUPPORTING ROLE W HEN the Su- j per Uplift i:- -I \ \ Bra was introduced . :' -. ...., :- in New York last . ".. \... ,..0: '. f/I ) ..... :).\ ' :' i 1.. . month by its manu- facturer, the British firm Gossard-bras styled to plunge here and push there are very much here again, fashionwise-a company spokes- woman remarked that the bra "is for any type of woman who wants to make the most of what she has." She wasn't talking about Dorothy Galligan, ex- actly, but she might have been. For nineteen years, Ms. Galligan's breasts have been the center of attention on Madison and Park Avenues between Thirtieth and Fortieth Streets. Most of America's bras are designed in those blocks, and most of those bras are en- gineered around Ms. Galligan She is a 34B, which in the business of bra- making is quintessential. Building a bra that is comfortable and everything else, too, is an intricate feat of styling and charting: a design for a new bra can re- quire up to two hundred fittings, and all prototypes are fitted on models who measure 34B. Several models share the work on Madison and Park in the Thirties, but Ms. Galligan is the busi- est. Her first appointment each work- day is at seven-thirty, with the designers at Warner's, where bras are developed not just for the house label but also for Victoria's Secret and other firms M- ter she leaves Warner's she makes the rounds of perhaps ten more houses, taking no breaks-not even a lunch hour-before finishing up, around six- thirty. On particularly harried days, she's been known to go from fitting to fitting wearing nothing but undergar- ments and a fur coat. When we met up with Ms. Gal- ligan one recent morning at Warner's, at 90 Park Avenue, she was wearing a Bettina Riedel jumpsuit and waiting to start work. She would not reveal her age-she looked, to us, like someone who could pass for Michelle Pfeiffer's older, more sensible sister-but did re- veal that she had been working as a cabaret singer in the seventies when her singing coach (male), who had somehow heard that a company that supplies underwires to the bra industry was searching for a model, inquired about her breast size. "I was 'Excuse me?' " Ms. Galligan recalled. "But I went, for a kick, and just never stopped." She led us into a studio decorated wIth photographs of Marilyn Monroe, and introduced us to Don Allen, one of the industry's up-and-coming de- signers. A friendly man in a snazzy Boss suit, he said, "I have bras in my genes," and went on to explain that his father had worked for Playtex. Mean- while, Ms. Galligan slipped the top of her jumpsuit down. Mr. Allen imme- diately appraised her bra, whIch was black and plunging. "Nice, Dotty," he said, and then inquired, 'Wacoal?" Ms. Galligan nodded and, turning to u , said, 'We always play Guess the Bra." They got down to work. She tried